Blood in the Moonlight
by QueenKiki1993
Summary: Six years after Avatar Aang and his allies defeated Fire Lord Ozai and ushered in a new era of peace to the world, an old enemy returns and creates a bloody legacy that will threaten to undo everything they worked so hard to accomplish. As a deadly vendetta plays out, relationships will be tested and the future of the world will hinge on their wills and resolve.
1. Prologue

I do not own any of the characters portrayed in the following story and will not seek financial gain from their usage. All characters and settings in the Avatar: the Last Airbender universe are the property of Nickelodeon Studios and its affiliates. I am just a fan!

Please enjoy and review! This is my first story on this site and I look forward to sharing it with you guys. Warning: It will be a relatively dark tale and later chapters will contain sexual situations.

**Prologue**

The news came in the middle of the night. Frightened voices could barely be heard streaming from beyond the doorway where her guards were stationed. Her hearing was not what it used to be, but Hama still caught enough of the hurried conversations to understand. The war was over and the Fire Nation stood defeated. The wizened old waterbender from the Southern Water Tribe let a vindictive smirk spread across her ancient face. After all this time, finally there would be a chance for vengeance. The deaths of her friends and family and fellow benders, the annihilation of her entire culture, would be repaid tenfold; at long last, things would be set right. The Fire Nation and all its people would feel a hundred years worth of pain and misery. Judgment would be swift and unrelenting. And if the whispered rumors were true, it was thanks to the Avatar, master of all the elements.

"Fire Lord Ozai is dead," one voice had muttered in a terrified whisper. "A friend of my cousin was with the armada. He saw the Avatar cut him in half."

"I heard the Avatar flung him into a mountain and buried him alive," said another, who sounded more awestruck than terrified.

"No, no, no. Ozai's alive. He escaped just when the Avatar was about to strike the final blow. He's somewhere in the Earth Kingdom right now, preparing a counter-attack," chimed in a third voice, but she was quickly drowned out by a chorus of denials and accusations of "wishful thinking" and "damned conspiracy theories."

None of it mattered to Hama. One thing was certain: the war was over and every single one of her captors was on the losing side. Before this was over, the furious prisoner would make the guards wish they had put her to death instead of throwing her behind these cruel, metal bars. But Hama was patient. She had waited in this cramped cell for weeks after Katara and her friends, the Avatar among them, helped the Fire Nation villagers imprison her. She could wait a few more days.

And she did wait. The hours turned into days, the days into weeks, and the weeks into months. Where were the Earth Kingdom soldiers and her brothers and sisters from the Northern Tribe? Where was dear, naïve, infuriating Katara and her fool brother? Where was the Avatar? Where was her absolution?!

Nothing seemed to change. The same guards meandered into her quarters. They fed her the same disgusting food in the same filthy bowls. She had to endure the same infuriating humiliation every time nature called. Three firebenders stood ready to incinerate her at a moment's notice as another chained her hands behind her back and held her roughly as her urine stained the floor. A final man scrubbed away furiously as the trickle fell, intent on ensuring that no trace of liquid remained. The soldiers often joked that they drew straws to see who would get that illustrious duty. Hama had once taken some measure of delight in splattering the unfortunate soldier with her stream, but she had been beaten fiercely afterward and did not try it again.

Time went by torturously slowly as the indignities she suffered mounted. Eventually, she learned that the Avatar and the new Fire Lord were allies. _Friends_! The Fire Nation would not be punished but forgiven, their myriad crimes forgotten in the name of peace. Hama cried out in raging agony but the angry tears did not come. The room was kept so dry and she was allowed so little water to drink that she was almost constantly dehydrated.

Her soiled and tattered rags offered little protection from the chill or cruel roughness of the floor as she thrashed against it. Lost in her madness, she did not care that she bruised and cut her arms. It was only later that she noticed the small pool of blood on the stone. Her maddened eyes glinted as she tried to bend the crimson puddle to her will. She managed only to make it bubble and shift an inch or so. She cursed beneath her breath as she looked up and out through the slitted window that provided her with her sole source of sunlight and fresh air.

The opening was not large enough for her to slide through even if she had been able to reach it. But it did afford her a view of the sky. The palest sliver of the waxing moon hung in the obsidian tapestry, a crescent island adrift in a sea of stars. Why had she not thought of this before? Full moons had come and gone many times throughout her imprisonment. Upon Katara's and the villagers' advisement, when those nights came, the guards stayed far away so as to be out of Hama's range. She could only bloodbend during the full moon and she could not bloodbend those she could not see.

So while she could feel the power coursing through her, she never had the option to use it. But her own blood...that was always with her. The sight of the moon stilled her rage and her face was set in calm determination. She stared at that small stain of sanguine hope and smiled. She cuddled up into her sleeping corner and closed her eyes. For the first time in a long time, she slept peacefully throughout the night.

Two weeks passed and Hama endured her beatings and humiliations better than she ever had before and more than she originally thought possible. She smiled as she slurped up the grime that passed for food in the prison, delighting in the warmth that filled her stomach as it went down. She ignored the barbs and taunts flung at her by the guards. She even tried to chat amicably with them when they came for the daily ritual of ensuring she did not use her piss to kill every last one of them. And at the end of every day, she would rest, free from nightmares and pain. The last thing she beheld each night before closing her eyes was the moon, growing larger and brighter.

The night of the full moon began like any other. Her jailors tended to her early in the morning and when dusk came to smother the light from the world they retreated far behind their steel doors and walls. But that would not save them, not tonight. When the beautiful silver rays of the full moon streamed through her window, bathing her in their rejuvenating light, Hama laughed. Loudly and fiercely she laughed until tears of joy streamed down her crevassed face. She laughed until her aged body shook. She laughed until she could barely breathe.

And then she took her arm in her mouth and chewed. She punctured the leathery skin easily and tasted the hot metallic flow, but it was not enough. She tore and mauled at her flesh, wincing and shaking from the agony, but her hatred gave her strength and rage deadened her pain. Finally, her blood was flowing freely from the weeping gash she had torn from her flesh. She reached out and her own blood rose from the wound and from the floor where so much of it had fallen. Her arms flowed around her with the grace and fluidity of a river and soon her blood was shaped into a floating scythe.

Hama lunged forward, striking the bars of her cell with her blood. She clenched her hands into a tight fist, compressing the gory stream until it was sharper than a knife. Again and again it sliced against steel. As the waterbender continued to bleed, she added more and more blood to her crimson tool. The shrill sound of metal giving way drove her on until finally, the bar fell away. Emaciated and frail, Hama had little trouble slipping through the widened gap.

Shadows surrounded her as she walked slowly toward the door. Her blood flowed in ribbons all around her body. She merged them into one arrow shaped cudgel and used it to strike at the lock, shattering it with one fierce blow. The door opened and three guards looked up in horror as Hama entered. One of them, a firebender, stood and tried to immolate her in a torrent of flame. But before so much as smoke could leave his hand, it clenched and twisted at an unnatural angle. The man sputtered in shock as he tried in vain to regain control of his arm. With an almost lazy shrug of her shoulders, Hama sent him flying head first into a nearby wall. A sickening crunch accompanied the impact and the old woman could sense the blood begin to pour out of his mangled skull.

By now, the dead man's companions had grabbed their weapons and were rushing toward her. She sneered at them and lifted her outstretched hands. The pair were stopped dead in their tracks and began floating upward as the very blood in their veins pushed their bodies into the air. She laughed cruelly as both men were made to raise their blades and press them against each other's throats. They begged and pleaded and the younger one who could not have been more than eighteen, even cried.

Hama snarled. Their sickly mewls ended abruptly as she forced their arms to spasm. The steel of their swords cut through feeble flesh and their blood fell like rain. They fell to the floor in a lifeless heap just as the door opposite her entrance swung open. Three more men, all of them firebenders, streamed in and prepared to attack but they never got the chance.

Instead, they all began to scream in torturous agony. The sound was unearthly, the stuff of nightmares. But to Hama, it was the most lovely music she had ever heard. As she made the blood in their veins boil and the fluids in their stomachs expand and cut through the elastic lining of their guts and bowels, she pictured the firebenders who had killed her father and stolen her away so long ago. This was justice; bloody, painful, cruel justice.

By now, the alarms were sounding and men and women were flying in all directions. The fools who attempted to stop her met grisly ends. The more clever among them tried to flee. Tried. She took control of the bodies of three female guards who had ran at the sight of her and forced their faces up against a steam pipe that ran along the top of the wall. It was designed to spread heat throughout the guard quarters, but Hama knew how to put it to better use. She increased the pressure and heat of the steam within the iron tubing until it burst, bathing their terrified faces in a superheated fog that melted the flesh from their bones.

Eventually, Hama found the exit. A trail of mutilated corpses filled the dilapidated and unassuming building behind her. Before her, was the sea. Her prison sat on a small and secluded island, bereft of trees or natural beauty. But the reflection of the moon on the surface of the sea was all the beauty she needed. Hama walked down to the beach and cooed in contentment as the cool sand soothed her ragged and bare feet. The tides came up to kiss her flesh, welcoming her with their healing and tender embrace. She smiled down at the bloody wound on her arm and stilled the bleeding through sheer force of will.

The elderly waterbender silently thanked the moon as her silver hair, caught in a refreshing and salty gust of wind, streamed behind her. This was freedom. For the second time in her long life she had escaped imprisonment. Hama vowed then and there on that silent, windswept beach that she would die before ever again she allowed herself to be caged like an animal. Her jaw clenched in resolute determination. She had work to do. The Fire Nation had ruined her life and they would suffer. But it was the Avatar and his friends that had robbed her of her rightful chance at vengeance. They too would pay. They would do more than pay; they would mourn the days of their births.

Cackling in glee and with nothing except retribution on her mind, Hama leaped forward into the surf and rocketed away on the surface of the water. Her gnarled hands sent up plumes of ocean spray as she jetted forward at an alarming pace. The moon above her, the ocean at her feet, and the blood - so much blood - on her hands, made Hama smile. She had not felt such happiness in a long time. And her enemies were about to discover that they had never felt true pain.


	2. Chapter 1: Bad Blood

Author's note: This takes place just shortly after the events of The Promise trilogy in the comics. If you haven't read it, I apologize if this a bit confusing, but I've tried my best to explain the basics of the situation. And don't worry, it won't interfere with your ability to enjoy the story. It'll just be an odd reference or two. Thanks. I hope you guys are enjoying it so far. Keep the review coming. I love constructive criticism.

**Chapter 1: Bad Blood**

The sun's warmth felt amazing on Sokka's tanned skin. He let out a long-winded and luxurious sigh, relishing the all-too-rare opportunity to just relax and do nothing. Suddenly, a shadow blocked out the sun. The young warrior opened his eyes just in time to see a massive tongue hurtling toward him. A second later, he was covered in slimy saliva and the hot, stinking breath invading his nostrils made him want to gag.

"Aaargh! Appa, leave me alone! I'm trying to get some sun," he shouted in exasperation as the great beast let loose a playful growl.

Katara, Sokka's younger sister, chuckled a few feet away where she was lazily bending water from the small river that they had stopped by to rest. As the bubble of water expanded and contracted and eventually collapsed back into the river, the dark-haired waterbender turned to her brother with a mocking smile. "Looks like Appa thinks you've had enough sun, Sokka. Isn't that right Appa," she asked the flying bison cutely.

"I'll be the judge of when I've had enough sun, thank you very much," Sokka grimaced. The flying lemur named Momo landed on his head soon after, purring and twittering as his massive ears drooped low and obscured the shirtless teenager's face, eliciting another laugh from his amused sibling.

"Don't worry Sokka, I'll clean you right up," promised a sweet but very mischievous voice. Toph slammed her foot into the ground and the earth beneath Sokka erupted, sending him flying face first into the water. Momo screeched and cast an angry glance at the short earthbender before flying away. The sound was drowned out by three sets of laughter. Katara and Toph were joined by Aang, the young Avatar who just over a year ago had ended a war a century in the making.

Aang had just leaped up out of the river after taking a swim. He used airbending to dry himself off and began slipping on his loose-fitting gold and red tunic. "Appa's right Sokka," he said with a smile after he stopped laughing. "Relaxation time is over. We've got to finish another circuit of the colonies before the end of the week," he reminded the older boy.

"What's the rush," asked Sokka loudly as he tried to wring the water out of wolf-tail. "We've been flying around in circles for a month, visiting the same towns over and over again. They're doing fine Aang."

"I just want to be sure," replied the world's only remaining airbender. "After the trouble with Zuko and the Earth King, I don't want to take any chances. If these towns are ever going to be a country that welcomes people from all four nations, they need the Avatar to be there for them while they're trying to put all the pieces together."

The smile vanished from the thirteen-year-old's face as he thought once more about his massive burden. The coastal areas of the Earth Kingdom that had been occupied by the Fire Nation during the war were multi-cultural, with Fire Nation citizens and earthbenders living side-by-side and even marrying one another. When Aang and his friends had tried to negotiate a return of the towns to the Earth Kingdom it had very nearly led to another war between the two nations. Only a last-minute agreement between Aang, Zuko, and Earth King Kuei had averted disaster. The colonies would become independent and form the backbone of a new nation where all would be welcomed. It was to be known as the United Republic. The situation had stabilized, but the youthful Avatar was still nervous and so he and his friends had spent the past several weeks traveling between the towns to make sure everything was still on track.

Momo returned and perched on Aang's bared right shoulder, nipping lovingly at his ear. The gesture brought the smile back to the Avatar's face. He ran a hand through Appa's thick fur, causing the bison to issue a contented rumble. "What do you say, buddy? Ready for some more flying?" His animal guide roared in approval.

"Well, I'm ready when you are," said Katara as she stood and walked toward Aang. "And for what it's worth, I think you're doing the right thing. I'm proud of you." She leaned in and gave her boyfriend a quick kiss on the cheek, eliciting a dopey smile from the pubescent monk.

Even after more than a year of dating, Aang blushed furiously whenever Katara kissed him. He couldn't believe his luck in finding someone so special and beautiful. Guru Pathik had once said that Katara was the reincarnation of the love he held for his people and the Avatar was inclined to believe him, given how deeply he cared for the blue-eyed waterbender. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he muttered, "thanks."

"Ugh, I am never going to get used to that," grumbled Sokka as he worked his way back to shore and clumsily climbed up Appa's tail to get to the saddle atop the creature's wide back.

"You guys can just drop me off at Yu Dao," suggested Toph. "I hate to think what those dunderhead students of mine are doing without me to keep them in line."

Aang merely nodded and prepared to give the command to get Appa flying when a panicked voice rang out in the distance. "Avatar! Avatar Aang, please wait! We need your help. Something terrible has happened."

The plea came from an obviously distressed young woman. She was sweating profusely and her simple green and brown garments were torn as if she had run through the bushes and brambles of the forested area nearby.

As the panicking woman came to a halt beside Appa and doubled over to catch her breath, Sokka flushed and hurriedly put his shirt back on. Aang floated down from the bison's head and rested one tattooed hand on the new arrival's heaving shoulder. "Are you okay," he asked, genuine concern filling his voice. "What happened?"

After a few more ragged breaths, the woman straightened to face the sympathetic airbender. "Thank the spirits I got to you in time Avatar," she sighed. "My name is Mi Li and I am from Han Shao."

"Han Shao," interrupted Sokka from above. "We were just there yesterday."

"Has something happened," asked Katara.

"Yes," said Mi Li. "There's been a murder. A terrible murder."

Katara gasped and Aang looked deeply troubled, but Sokka seemed hesitant. "Isn't this something for the local authorities to handle," he asked. "I mean, that's really awful, but we're Team Avatar. We sort of save the world and keep the peace. Solving isolated murders isn't really our thing. _Ouch_," he added as Katara punched him in the arm. The warrior continued as he rubbed his shoulder where she hit him. "Look, I know it's horrible, but I'm just saying we have bigger concerns."

"He isn't wrong," added in Toph.

"Please," interjected Mi Li. "I understand how important your work is Avatar. My village would not have sent me to find you if it wasn't absolutely necessary. This was no ordinary murder. The victim...the victim's body was…" She looked away and seemed deeply disturbed by what she had to say.

"What is it," asked Aang, trying to be as gentle as he could while still pressing her for an answer.

Finally, she responded. With quivering and watery eyes, she whispered, "the victim's body was drained of blood."

A shocked and disconcerted hush fell over the group. Even Momo huddled into a frightened ball on Aang's shoulder. Toph finally broke the silence. "Did I hear you right," she asked Mi Li incredulously. "Did you say _drained of blood_?" The words alone seemed to appal the young earthbender.

All Mi Li could do was mutter a distraught and whimpering affirmation. "The body was found this morning. I've been running for hours trying to reach you in time. Please Avatar, Han Shao needs your help. The town is in a complete panic. We've never seen anything like this before," she cried, the frightened pleading in her voice all-too apparent.

"Still think we have bigger problems Sokka," asked Katara coolly.

Her brother's hand was rubbing his chin and his brow was furrowed deep in thought. "No, this changes things," he said seriously. "We need to figure out what's going on."

"Agreed," nodded Aang. He helped Mi Li climb on Appa and soon after, they were flying through the clouds on their way to Han Shao. "Sorry Toph, but I think your students are going to have to go without you for a while."

"No arguments here Twinkletoes," she concurred. "I think helping you solve a brutal, mysterious murder is a bit higher on my priority list than making sure that lily-livered Ho Tun can bend a metal pole without breaking into hysterics."

Meanwhile, Katara tended to Mi Li's wounds, using her waterbending to heal some of the minor cuts outright and numbing the pain for the deeper gashes. "Can you tell us who was murdered Mi Li," she asked gently as she went about her work.

"His name was Hanzo. He was a gentle and kind, old man. He used to be one of the villages best fishermen. He was one of the first Fire Nation colonials to come to the town, but he was always so sweet with everybody. He had no enemies. No one in the village would want to hurt him. I just don't understand," she began, before breaking into quiet and tearful sobs. The full weight of the day's events had finally hit her and she could not maintain her composure.

As Katara embraced her and tried the best she could to console the poor woman, Aang spurred Appa on, urging his oldest friend to go faster. After about an hour of flight, Han Shao came into view. A relatively small village, it was nevertheless very wealthy as the many large and expansive houses and the massive, well-maintained dock could attest. Sitting on the banks of a great river, it had become a major hub for transportation and the fishing industry. Han Shao had more former Fire Nation citizens than any other colony and the numerous Fire Nation emblems were still being removed in order to be replaced by the new symbol for the United Republic.

Appa set down outside the town hall near a chattering and clearly scared throng of villagers. The group dismounted and Aang tried his best to calm the crowd. "We are going to do everything we can to figure out what happened here. I give you my word," he swore.

While Appa and Momo stayed behind to provide a welcomed distraction for the local children, Mi Li led them through the shifting mass of humanity as best she could. Soon, they found themselves near a small but cozy home. The front door was ajar and a pair of local magistrates were standing on the porch, speaking in hushed voices. When they saw the Avatar and his companions approach, they turned and bowed.

Sokka and Toph broke off to look around the exterior of the home and try to see if they could find any clues about how the murderer had gained access to the house. One of the magistrates moved to wrap an arm around Mi Li and led her away, commending her for doing so well. Katara smiled sadly at the woman by way of farewell and then followed Aang up the porch to speak with the remaining investigator.

The green-eyed and lanky man introduced himself as Magistrate Zhou. "Thank you Avatar for coming so quickly. Han Shao is most grateful." Wasting no time in getting straight to business, Zhou led Aang and Katara into the house. "I must warn you that this is a very grim scene. Poor Hanzo was found in his kitchen by a friend early this morning. The front door was locked, but she had a key."

As Aang rounded the corner into the sparse kitchen, he gasped and looked away. He heard the breath leave Katara's body as she gripped his arm tightly. Steeling himself, the young Avatar looked at the corpse in the corner. The light from a nearby window cast morbid shadows all around the body. Hanzo's skin was milky white and shriveled. His open, staring eyes were drained of all discernible color and looked imploringly up at Aang, the fear and pain still etched into their glance. His limbs were all contorted at inhuman angles and his neck was twisted almost all the way around.

Large streams of dried blood flowed like rivers out of the elder's eyes, ears, nostrils, and mouth. They ran like tributaries to a great lake of blood that covered most of the room's floor. The sight was so ghastly that Aang had to look away once more. The Air Nomads had always taught him to respect all life. Whoever had done this vile act had no such respect, nor even the slightest ounce of common decency. This person clearly hated Hanzo more than words could express and that level of base rage made the Avatar's skin crawl and his stomach churn.

By now Sokka and Toph had returned from their explorations. The water tribesman grimaced and bowed his head. "I don't think I've ever envied your blindness until now Toph. This is terrible."

Toph told the others that they had found no signs of forced entry and she didn't detect any underground tunnels that could have been used to get into the house from below.

"That is in line with our findings as well," added Magistrate Zhou. "Whoever did this got in without a struggle and left no evidence that we could use to identify them."

"You're sure it wasn't the friend who discovered him," inquired Aang, trying his best to analyze the situation rationally.

"Yes. She's a sweet, old woman. Lived here her entire life too. She and Hanzo were as close as two people could be. I saw the devastation and shock in her eyes when I questioned her. She's not our suspect," Zhou answered firmly.

A quiet gasp escaped Katara's lips as she braced herself against the doorframe. "Katara, what's wrong," asked Aang as Sokka moved to steady her.

"Aang," she finally said in a voice barely above a whisper. "Think about it. No signs of forced entry, which either means that Hanzo let this person in or he was forced to let them in. No signs of a struggle and all that blood...it's like it was just pulled out of him. There's only one person who could have done this."

Sokka's face hardened into a hateful stare as the truth of the situation dawned on him. "And last night was a full moon. It all fits," he said harshly as he slammed his fist against the wall. To this day, the young warrior was always painfully aware of the moon in the night sky.

The realization hit Aang like an avalanche. His sad, grey eyes looked over at Hanzo one last time as he muttered, "Hama."


	3. Chapter 2: The Hunt

**Chapter 2: The Hunt**

"What did you say this woman looked like again," the balding man facing Sokka asked.

The warrior scrunched his face. He had spent five minutes trying to describe Hama to this elderly gentleman and he was getting nowhere. "The woman we're looking for had really long, white hair. It might have been tied up in a bun. She was old, hunchbacked, really wrinkly. She looked like, well, you know, an old woman!"

"I've seen a lot of old women in my time young man and most of them had long hair. You're going to need to be a bit more specific," the man said with an exasperated smile, showing off the rather sizable gap between his front teeth.

"Hmmm. Well her eyes were...Toph," he said turning to look down at the barefooted earthbending prodigy to his left. "Do you remember what color Hama's eyes were?"

Toph merely stared up at him unblinking and scowled.

"Oh right, the blind thing," exclaimed Sokka. "Sorry." Turning back to the man, the teen merely sighed and said, "look, I've got to get going, but if you think you see this woman, stay away from her. She's very dangerous." As the man walked away, Sokka's shoulders slumped and he began ambling dejectedly in the opposite direction.

Toph, never one to miss out on an opportunity to make him feel even worse, quipped, "so that's five people and five dead-ends. So who are we going to ask about seeing an old woman next? Maybe that old woman over there, or there," she declared, pointing right and left, unseeing but confident she was making her point. "There's plenty of old women in the village we could ask about seeing an old woman!"

Sokka glowered down at her. "That's the problem Toph. Hama just looks like an old woman. I doubt she goes around saying, 'hey, I'm a crazy bloodbender and I'm going to kill you.' That's why she's so dangerous. She could blend in anywhere. Who knows if she's even still in the village," he worried.

"Certainly not us," replied Toph dryly, causing Sokka to bury his forehead in the palm of his hand.

"Thanks for that Toph. It's really helpful," he responded sarcastically, earning a pleased smile from his blind associate.

The unlikely pair rounded a corner and made their way to the town square where they had landed just a couple of hours before. Appa was on his side, clearly exhausted and breathing laboriously as a few remaining children continued to crawl along his flanks and swing from his horns. Momo was screeching as a little girl who could not have been more than three or four tugged insistently on his tail. Katara was watching the proceedings and chuckling quietly. The smile vanished from her face when she turned and saw the depressed expression on Sokka's own.

"You didn't have any luck, either," she asked dejectedly, revealing her own lack of success. She had come back to the town hall after viewing the body and talked to the gathered crowd to discover if anyone had seen Hama. A few volunteers had offered to help with the search but so far, they had been just as unlucky as Toph and her brother.

"None," admitted Sokka. "Is Aang back yet," he asked.

"No," said Katara. The Avatar had taken his glider and was currently flying over the village trying to get a bird's eye view of the surroundings. None of them really thought that Hama would be walking around in the open so soon after the murder, but Aang had thought it was worth a try. "What are we going to do Sokka," she asked in a pained murmur. "You saw what Hama could do. The thought that she is out there somewhere...It just makes me sick. What if we don't stop her in time and some other innocent person pays the price?"

"It'll be alright Katara," Sokka promised gently as he placed reassuring hands on his sister's shoulders. "We've been in worse spots and made it through the other side. We'll get through this too. You'll see."

Katara began to quiver as tears ran down her cheeks. Sokka instantly pulled her into a tight hug. The waterbender gratefully returned the gesture. "I know what Hama is, what she can do," she said trembling. "I know what it feels like to have no control. It's a complete violation." Deep down, she didn't know if she was more upset about the murder or the fact that she too was a bloodbender. She had only used it on a couple of occasions, once to save the lives of her friends and the other while in a fit of rage. The thought that she may be no different from Hama terrified her. The harsh reality of just what she could do with her bending was horrific. But Katara kept this from her brother. They all had their own burdens to bear, and this was her's.

Sokka gave her a final squeeze and pulled away. He smiled down at his sister as she wiped away the last of her tears. Katara had noticed a change in him over this past year. It was in the eyes mainly; they were like their father's, strong and bright and compassionate. "Thank you Sokka," she said. "You're right. We'll figure this out," she said with a confidence that hid her inner turmoil.

By now, Momo's plight was dire indeed and Katara ran off to the rescue, gently shooing the laughing child away. She did not hear Toph when she whispered, "hey Sokka, you may be terrible at this searching business, but you're a pretty good brother." She punched him hard in the arm immediately afterward. "And if you tell anyone I said that, you'll be sorry," she warned, but Sokka just smiled, albeit a pained smile. Between Toph and his sister, he was sure to have a massive bruise.

"Well, look who's back," the earthbender pointed out as she felt Aang's incredibly light footfalls feather against the ground as he landed a few feet away from them.

As Katara returned to the group, the airbender looked at them sullenly. "I didn't see anything. This isn't working. We need to try something else."

"Maybe we should split up," suggested Sokka. "Two of us stay in town and keep asking around and the other two take Appa and see what they can find outside of Han Shao."

"Good idea," agreed Katara. "We can cover more ground that way. Who's doing what?"

"Well, I won't be too good at spotting anything from up on Appa, so I'll stay and ask around town," offered Toph. "Plus, I can make sure no one's lying to us when they answer our questions."

"Okay, then. I guess I'll go with Toph and see what we can dig up," declared Sokka.

"Uh, no offense Sokka, but you weren't doing too good a job of that earlier. Maybe you should head out of town and see what you can dig up there instead," rebuffed Toph.

Sokka pouted but eventually agreed.

"I'll go with Sokka then," offered Aang but Katara shook her head.

"No, Aang. The people here are still really scared, but they seem to be much calmer whenever you're around. I think seeing the Avatar gives them courage. They need you here. I'll go with Sokka," she said.

"But what if you run into Hama," argued Aang. "She's dangerous Katara," he said worriedly.

"We could just as easily run into her here in town," his girlfriend pointed out. "And between Appa, Sokka, and I, I know we can beat her. It's the middle of the day and she doesn't have the full moon to help her."

Aang looked like he was about to protest further, but he was silenced by a chaste kiss on the lips from Katara. "We'll be okay," she assured him.

"Okay," he said, nodding uncertainly. "Be careful you guys," he begged as the Water Tribe siblings boarded Appa and took off into the sky.

"Well, looks like it's just you and me Twinkletoes," said Toph bracingly as she came to stand beside Aang who was still staring listlessly up at the quickly shrinking dot that was Appa. "We better get started," she said, giving him an insistent tug.

"Don't forget about Momo," Aang smiled. "Come on boy," he called and the lemur happily flew to rest on his shoulder.

The trio continued their investigation in extreme discomfort. The afternoon sun was sinking lower and lower into the sky and yet, somehow, it was actually getting hotter. Han Shao was very near the equator, almost directly in line with the volcanic archipelago far to the west that comprised the Fire Nation heartland.

And so as the young Avatar trudged through the town, hoping to get some small shred of information on Hama, he had to wipe the sweat from his brow before it ran down to sting his eyes. Poor Momo was panting pitifully from the heat as his ears drooped down tiredly. The young airbender could tell by looking over at Toph that she was miserable too, but, as usual, she never complained. Aang both envied and admired her for that. But she was also as solid and unyielding as the earth she bent, which usually meant their conversations would end in an argument over philosophy.

But the airbender had to admit that she was in her element when questioning the town's citizens. She went straight to the heart of the matter and was relentless in her pursuit of the truth. Sometimes a bit too relentless.

Aang was desperately trying to keep her from headbutting a man who had ruffled her hair and said how nice it was that, "the little girl is trying to help with the grown-up investigation," when he saw a bearded man look at them suspiciously. He averted his gaze as soon as he was noticed and devoted the fullness of his concentration to peeling some juicy-looking pears.

The Avatar eventually managed to pry Toph away from the altercation and she followed him in a huff. Momo flew to the top of her head and nestled there as if to console her. When they approached, the man looked about nervously and stuttered so much that he reminded Aang of a weasel-squirrel. "Hello," the young teen said as he bowed respectfully to his elder. "My friend and I were just asking people around town if they've seen anything suspicious over the past few days. We're investigating Hanzo's murder and…"

"I know what you've been doing," interrupted the anxious man as he kept peeling his pears. "You lot have been stirring up trouble, that's what you've been doing!"

Toph bristled beside him, but Aang stayed calm. "What do you mean? We're just trying to help."

"You aren't helping anybody in this town with your questions. And you certainly aren't helping me any. Just go away and leave me alone," he said in gruff annoyance. By this point, he was shaving off more pear than peel with his pruning knife and his hands were shaking.

The Avatar cocked an eyebrow at the man and his strange behavior. "Sir, we're looking for a dangerous woman. She would be really short, not much taller than me, with long, white hair and a very shriveled face. Have you seen her?"

"I told you, I haven't seen anything," he shouted.

"You're lying," Toph said suddenly as she advanced toward the man. He recoiled as she grabbed him by the collar and yanked him forward. "There's something you're not telling us, isn't there," she blared, ignoring the older man's bleating.

Aang's gaze hardened as he continued. "My friend here has a gift. If she says you're holding something back then you are. Did you have something to do with the murder?"

"What?! No! Never," he sputtered in a panic. "I didn't kill anyone. I swear!"

"And I believe you," growled Toph. "So what is it that you're hiding?"

The man looked away and tears ran down his sunburnt cheeks. "I just want to protect my family. I don't know how else I can do it…"

Toph let go of the shaking man as Aang's countenance softened considerably. "What are you talking about? If you tell us, we can help you. We can keep you safe."

"Like you kept old Hanzo safe," the man shot back. The young Avatar looked away and sighed. Deep down, he knew he couldn't save everyone, but that still didn't make it any easier to accept. Fortunately, the man did not let him wallow in guilt for too long. Reluctance coloring every syllable that came out of his mouth, he nevertheless continued. "It was late last night. I was out for an evening stroll near the southern gate. I was just minding my business, admiring that pretty full moon we had last night, when an old woman came walking into my path. She was moving faster than any old woman I'd ever seen. The old bat nearly knocked me over when she ran into me. And next thing I knew…"

He paused and pure terror flooded his eyes. "And then, I was floating in the air. And she was laughing! It hurt so bad too. It felt like my arms were going to be ripped out of their sockets. And then, I just fell. Don't know what happened. The woman looked really annoyed though. Downright furious. I've never seen so much hatred in a person's eyes," he mumbled uncomfortably.

"Were there any clouds in the sky that night, sir," Aang asked pointedly. "Do you remember if any covered the moon around the same time you fell?"

"What? I don't know. I wasn't really concentrating on the moon at that point. I was more frightened for my life! But I suppose it's possible."

"What happened next," Toph interjected impatiently. "After she dropped you."

"Well, she looked down at me and said she knew my face, knew where I lived. She told me that if I told anyone that I saw her, she would come back and kill me and my entire family. She meant it. I could tell. After that, she just walked on out the southern gates. That's all I know," he finished. "Please don't tell anyone I told you," he begged.

"We won't," promised Aang as he bowed to the other man. "And thank you."

Aang and Toph hurried toward the southern gate with Momo flying not too far ahead of them. "Well, I guess we know which direction she was heading," said Toph as they ran. "Which way did Katara and Sokka go," she asked hesitantly, unsure if she wanted the answer.

The Avatar ran even faster as he opened his glider and prepared to take off into the air. "They went south," he said.

The sun was setting fast to their right as Sokka and Katara drifted slowly over the beautiful river valley, eyes peeled for any signs of movement or campsites. "Are we sure she would stay along the river," asked Sokka. "There's an awful lot of wilderness around that she could hide in if she wanted to."

"No, it's been very dry around here lately, so she wouldn't be able to draw much water from the air. She would want to stay close to a source of water just in case she had to defend herself from bandits. Besides, something tells me she's not finished with this area yet. She'll probably want to stay close by and this river goes past a lot of villages. It'll lead her to plenty of potential victims," she said grimly. "And you saw back at the town how no one knew anything. She doesn't know we're after her. She has no reason to run far."

"I don't know Katara. That seems a little far-fetched to me. I think we're grasping at straws here," Sokka mused, giving voice to her own internal doubts. She looked ahead and saw the river turn into a furious set of rapids. Jagged rocks stood like grim sentinels amid the rushing waves. It wasn't the first time she had been struck by the simultaneous beauty and danger of her element. One need look no further than Hama to see just what kind of damage waterbending could cause.

Then, her thoughts were interrupted when she saw movement down to her right. It could have just been the trees blowing in the wind, but her gut told her otherwise. She took the reigns and guided Appa down to a lower altitude to get a better look.

And then the river came alive.

A pair of massive tendrils of water shot up and flowed around two of Appa's legs. An instant later they turned to ice and twisted violently. A sickening crunch accompanied the shriek of twisting ice and was followed by a maddened howl. Their friend and primary mode-of-transportation was going down. Sokka and Katara screamed and hung on as best they could as Appa landed head first into the mucky ground beside the river.

His tail flapped furiously behind them as the great beast writhed in pain. Sokka was dazed and Katara's vision was blurred. She was sure she had sprained her ankle when she tried to brace herself for the impact.

The injured waterbender heard the water before she saw it. It was rushing toward them, twisting and churning menacingly like the drill that had burst through the wall of Ba Sing Se. Struggling through the pain, Katara reached out and felt the flow of the water's energy. She tuned into it and held her hands aloft, halting the liquid spire just before it crashed down murderously on all three of them.

Katara flung her hands aside and sent it flying back to the river. No sooner had she done so then another wave came rushing toward them. Her leg throbbed in pain and it was hard to keep the wave at bay. Mist rained down all about her as she trembled in raw effort against its undeniable force.

Meanwhile, Sokka regained his footing and jumped from Appa's back, He ran as quickly as his shaking legs could take him and spotted their foe standing on the opposite shore. She looked even more thin and frail than Sokka remembered, but there was no denying that it was her. The crazed sound of her laughter was unmistakable. The skeletal nature of her face was terrible to behold and the dark rings around her eyes made them glint with an even more fierce light.

Wasting no time, the warrior unstrapped his boomerang from the holster on his back and flung it across the river. It caught the fading light and glinted a moment before it crashed into Hama's elbow. She cried out in pain and the massive wall of water collapsed, soaking his sister and Appa, but doing no more damage than that.

Hama got back to her feet with a screech and launched a fury of ice spikes directly toward the disheveled teen's head. He turned on his heels and ran as fast as he could, ducking behind the safety of a nearby rock just seconds before they shattered against the stone.

By now, Katara had managed to brace herself against the side of Appa's saddle. Her arms flowed outward and sent a powerful stream of water rocketing toward Hama. The mad bloodbender turned the wave into steam with a flick of her wrist. The hot mist enveloped her side of the river, but her cackling could still be heard.

"Katara my dear, it has been too long. Have you been too busy spending time with your new Fire Nation friends to come visit old Hama," she cried as more ice shards flew from behind the cloudy veil. One grazed Katara's outstretched arm, drawing blood. Three more pierced Appa's thick flesh. Roaring in pain and rage, the bison flapped his tail forcefully, sending a brutal gust of wind hurtling across the river.

The steam was blown away and Hama herself was thrown hard into the trunk of a great tree. She collapsed to the ground and hissed in pain. The ancient bender clutched her side as she was wracked by a fit of coughing. Bloody spittle stained the ground beneath her. "You filthy beast," she spat. "You'll die for that!"

"No, he won't," screamed another voice. Hama felt the heat of a fireball rushing toward her and she just managed to whip up a wall of water to shield herself from the blast. The bloodbender saw the Avatar hurtling toward her and out of the corner of her eye she noted the small, blind girl leap forward and seemingly punch the air with her tiny fist. A wall of earth rammed into her side and sent her flying into the river. Before she could correct her course, she was thrown into the rapids, her body crashing against the rocks with bone-battering force and speed.

Aang looked on. He saw Hama cry out in agony as she was tossed and thrown beneath the waves, her bending no match for the sheer might and fury of nature. Despite all her crimes, he could not stand by and watch her die. He landed nearby and tried to ease the flow of the water, but it was too late. Hama was gone, lost beneath the rushing water. Aang looked downriver and saw no sign of her body. But the river was violent and tumultuous for at least a mile in that direction. He hung his head and silently wished things had been different. Mad and cruel and broken as she was, Hama was a living being. Her life had value even though it was a tragic story.

Appa's anguished cries broke the boy out of his reverie. He hurried to see if he and the others were okay. Once across the shore, Katara and Sokka both said they were okay for now, even though Aang noted that Katara winced every time she put even slight pressure on her right foot. But two of Appa's six legs were mangled and twisted horribly and he was bleeding profusely from his side where the spikes had dug deep into the flesh.

"You'll be okay buddy," he promised as he stroked the injured animal's head. Momo came to rest atop Appa's scalp and began licking his fur lovingly, chattering with worried-sounding squeaks. The airbender felt tears fill his eyes, but Sokka wrapped an arm around his back and gave his shoulder a supportive squeeze.

"Don't worry Aang. We'll take care of him," promised Katara as blood flowed down her arm. She pulled some water from the river and held it against Appa's flesh. It began to glow as she did her best to comfort the massive bison.

"I'll go back to the village and bring more help," promised Toph as she used her earthbending to propel her at high speeds back to Han Shao.

Aang simply laid his head against Appa's own. He felt so exhausted. So much pain and death in so short a time. So much suffering and waste. But at least it was over. Now perhaps Han Shao and the rest of the colonies could develop in peace. The Avatar hoped so or else everything he and his friends had fought for would be in vain. He refused to let that happen.


	4. Chapter 3: The Northern Refugee

**Chapter 3: The Northern Refugee**

As the young woman rushed through the thick foliage, her bare feet ached and her knees throbbed with each heavy step as if to protest the abuses they had suffered over the past hour. At least Kala assumed she had been running for an hour. The heaving quality of her breathing and the thick sheet of sweat covering her dark skin seemed to support that belief. She had fled from camp well into the night and she thought she saw the faintest glimmer of light begin to rise in the eastern sky, though the pressing closeness of the forest made it difficult to know for sure.

A branch thrashed at her face as she passed, drawing blood. As if to show that it was not yet done with her, the gnarled outgrowth caught in her long, black hair as she continued to flee, whipping her neck back and making her scalp burn where the hair was ripped out at the roots. She covered her chapped lips with her hand, tasting the dirt and sweat on her palm. Kala nearly gagged at the bitter mixture but she couldn't let her cry of anguish escape her mouth; she did not dare hope that she had escaped from her pursuers just yet.

She resumed her perilous flight, barely managing to avoid tripping over a rock that seemed to sprout up from nowhere. The shadows of the forest reached out threateningly to grab her, blind her, kill her. Kala stopped for a moment, terror making her heart race as she struggled in vain to catch her breath. She silently begged for help, not sure which spirits she was praying to, but not quite caring either. The sixteen-year-old was in desperate need of deliverance. If she was captured, she knew that death was all that was waiting for her. After coughing out a sickly glob of phlegm that had invaded her throat, she continued on. Her pace was noticeably slower, but the great tree roots of the forest floor had grown into a greater hindrance. If she tripped and broke her leg, it was all over anyway.

Kala realized she must have gone deeper into the forest. It was becoming harder and harder to move as the trees blocked her path, mocking her with their grizzled presence. The teenager could not think of a way out of this predicament. Her brother could have; he was always so resourceful. He had an answer for everything. But he was dead and couldn't help her now, she reminded herself with a trembling gasp.

Birds cried above her and she heard the crunch of leaves and the snapping of twigs to her left. Panicking, she turned, but saw that it was just a harmless long-tailed deer grazing for food. To her right, she heard the rushing of water. Suddenly, her swollen tongue and dried lips became painfully obvious. Overcome, Kala crept closer to the source of that sound to sate her growing thirst.

In the back of her mind, she realized any delay could be a deadly mistake, but if she didn't stop and rest for a moment she was liable to collapse. She stared at her reflection in the water. Free from the density of the forest, Kala could see the sun slowly rising, giving her just enough light to see the ghastly reflection staring up at her from the rushing surface of the water. Blood stained her cheek as it flowed haphazardly from the wound left by the branch. When had her eyes sunk into her skull? Where had those dark circles all around them come from? Was her hair really that frail and unkempt?

A lone tear fell from her dark eyes. If he was alive, her brother wouldn't even recognize her now. The only person in her life who had ever cared for her and looked out for her would see her as nothing but a random, bedraggled stranger if he was alive today. Hunger clawed at her stomach as she wretched pitifully on the shore. She began to wonder why she was running. Why put herself through this? Why keep living a life that brought only torment and pain? The reflection in the lake was not who she remembered; it was a different girl. All those terrible things had happened to some stranger beneath the glassy surface of the water. Kala was still just Kala, a lonely but healthy girl from the Northern Water Tribe. She was whole and complete and unbroken. But this girl in the river, she was a pitiable thing. Better to die than become her.

But fear returned, making its home deep in the damaged pits of her mind. Kala realized with a start that she was terrified of death and what that meant. She didn't want to go on living, but she could not bring herself to end it. Her life had become a prison. The tears fell like rain now, adding their bitter saltiness to the water beneath her. Kala sobbed now, unable to stop herself. Bruised arms rose to hug herself tightly as she collapsed to the mud and shook violently. The dawn was coming and colored the world in muted shades of brown and gray and alone in the world, the pathetic girl named Kala was laying in the muck, crying and waiting for death.

Until something caught her eye. The water trickled slowly by in front of her, but there was something else in it. A silvery strand that caught the early morning sunlight. Kala raised her head a little to get a better view. It was hair, a large clump of white hair. And something else trailed behind. Why was the river red? With a start, Kala realized it was blood staining the water.

The broken girl got to her knees and looked upriver for the source of the hair and blood. A frail form was laying sprawled across the shore, unmoving. In the morning gloom, its silhouette was indistinguishable from a small, flat boulder rising up out of the river. But rocks did not bleed. And they did not wear clothes as this thing did. That became apparent as a gust blew in and Kala saw the frail fabric flutter in its wake.

Was this one of her pursuers? Had they fallen in the water and drowned? A surge of spiteful glee rose up within her at the mere thought of it. But somehow Kala doubted that was the case. Curiosity temporarily overcame her despair and she limped slowly toward the stranger with whom she shared this little patch of nowhere.

As she approached, she observed that blood was coming from the person's side and whoever she was, the woman had lost a great deal of it. At least Kala assumed it was a woman, given her long, white hair. Great clumps had been torn from it but it still managed to flow, damp and tussled, down the length of her back. The young woman reached out a hand to touch the corpse. And then it moved.

Kala gasped and fell backward. The woman shuddered and a low groan came from the spot where her face lay in the damp earth. Regaining her courage, Kala hovered over her and as gently as she could, turned her over onto her back. The old woman winced in pain but was too weak to do anything else. Her face was covered in soil and her lips were bruised and crusted with blood. The sleeve of her robe had been torn off and the flesh of her arm was wrinkled and shriveled from age and the water. It was a grotesque sight and Kala suddenly felt better about her own roughshod appearance.

But the wound at the stranger's side was what drew most of Kala's attention. It was gaping and leaking blood and pus. It was a deep gash and the flesh around it was bruised and inflamed. It was amazing a woman as ancient as her had survived such a wound, but Kala doubted she would last long without help. Kala knew that she _could_ help, but what of her pursuers? If she delayed to help this random stranger who had washed ashore, she could very well be dooming herself. The teen began to rise and turn away when the woman coughed and sputtered pitifully behind her. Kala stopped and after a moment of hesitation, turned back around.

If she was captured she would die, and she decided that would not be such a terrible fate. She kneeled back down and dipped her hands in the river. As she raised them, the water clung to her flesh like glue. Kala closed her eyes and the water began to glow. They had taught her the healing arts in the Northern Tribe at least. She pressed her hands against the wound and shivered as she felt blood, new and old, run slimily against her palm. Kala took a deep breath and tried her best to focus the woman's chi into the wound to stimulate her body to help staunch the flow of blood.

The elderly woman spasmed weakly in pain, but after a moment the bleeding slowed. Kala dipped her hands in the river once more, cleaning them of blood. She repeated the process several times over and by the time light was once more filling the sky, the bleeding had stopped. The wound still looked severe however, and Kala did not know if she had done enough or acted in time. She tore a portion of fabric from the woman's remaining intact sleeve, purified it in the water like Yugoda had once taught her in the distant North, and wrapped it about the older woman's waist, tying it tightly to keep the bleeding from restarting and to keep her chi focused on the wound.

As she finished, the woman opened her eyes. She turned and looked up at her. Kala did her best to smile reassuringly down at her, but the look in the woman's gaze killed the gesture. There was such hatred in her glare and her ragged voice as she whispered, "you." With that, she fell once more into a black sleep.

Kala shuddered. What had she done to deserve such an admonishment? She had spoken so accusingly toward her. She had never met this woman in her life. But she supposed the stranger was delirious from her wound and who knew what other misfortunes. The girl dragged her new companion away from the shore and rested her against the trunk of a tree. Kala sat opposite her and waited. Eventually, the woman stirred and the teenager used the opportunity to get her to drink some water that she pulled in from the river. Most of it fell from her lips and onto her tattered robes, but the injured stranger sighed in what could be relief before passing out.

As Kala lay there, exhaustion came upon her rapidly. The day's events had left her utterly drained of all energy. She found it harder and harder to keep her eyes open. As the sun rose high in the sky and beat down on her, she felt her shoulders slump and her eyelids close. Before she knew it, the whispering wind running through the leaves above was singing her a lullaby. Sleep came suddenly and with little warning.

When her eyes fluttered open, Kala saw another pair staring at her intently from across the way. The old woman was awake. As Kala stirred, the stranger's gaze softened and became something almost sweet. "I suppose I have you to thank for saving me then," she asked by way of greeting.

Still tired and a little surprised, Kala could only nod.

"I'm afraid I must apologize for earlier when first I woke," muttered the woman with a raspy, strained voice. "I mistook you for someone else. You look quite a bit like another young woman I know. She and I...are not on good terms, I'm afraid," she offered cryptically.

"That's okay," murmured Kala groggily. "I'm just glad you're alright."

"Oh, I doubt that I'm alright quite yet, but thanks to you, I may have the chance," she said with a wan smile. A long quiet formed between them and for many minutes they sat in awkward silence. Then, the woman spoke up. "So, you are a waterbender," she said. It was not a question.

Kala didn't see any reason to lie. "Yes," she said simply. "And no," she added. "I was never really trained to do anything but heal."

"Ah, so you hail from the Northern Tribe then. They always had such strange customs," the elderly stranger replied.

This woman certainly knew a great deal about her culture. "Are you Water Tribe," she asked bluntly.

The woman nodded slowly. "I'm from the Southern Tribe, but...it has been some time since I was last there. Much has changed since my...departure."

"I've never met anyone from the South," revealed the young woman. "My name is Kala."

"And my name is Hama. It is nice to meet you Kala," she said, even though the strain of speech appeared to be taking its toll on her weakened body. "So tell my Kala, how does a young woman of the Northern Water Tribe end up so far away in the Earth Kingdom?"

Kala looked away uncomfortably. She pulled her legs in and cradled them in her arms as her lips quivered slightly. Hama noticed the fresh bruises on the girl's legs. They formed a matching set with the ones on her arms. The old woman looked upon her with sad eyes as she said, "never mind dear. There's no reason to dig up old memories. I am well acquainted with sad stories."

Kala reached up and wiped away the beginnings of a tear that had formed in her eye. She hated herself for being so weak, for letting all the bad things in her life that had happened to her happen at all. If she had been stronger, she never would have been captured! That bastard would never have… Kala felt like screaming as all the memories flooded back. She could almost feel the pain all over again.

A sound rang out through the forest to her right. She looked up, expecting another deer. Instead, three men stood there, panting and looking down at her, a look somewhere between brutal satisfaction and savage hatred mingling in their cold eyes. "There's the little bitch," the middle one said. He was the shortest and widest. Black hair, streaked with gray grew down his cheeks and chin but nowhere else. His cheeks were ruddy, his nose massive and red, and his jowls quivered whenever he shouted, which was often. His name was Kunzo, but Kala had always been ordered to call him Master Zo. He liked that for some reason.

The other two had been members of his personal entourage and guard. She didn't know their names, but the one on the right, a lanky man with long, frail hair the color of straw and a scar running across his forehead had burned her badly the first night she had been amongst Kunzo and the others. She had talked back and a scorched and blistered back was her punishment. The nameless man had merely smirked, but Kunzo had complained that he had "ruined her pretty, dark skin."

"Thought you could get away did you," Kunzo continued. "Just because the war is over don't mean you get to walk out on me. I would be so lonely without you by my side," he smirked.

The final member of the hunting party, a muscular wall of a man with a flame tattoo on the left side of his face said in a deep voice, "maybe now you'll let me break her legs. She won't be running anywhere then."

Kala was trembling and couldn't speak. She thought they would just kill her when they found her. But they acted as if they wanted to take her back with them. The mere thought was more horrible than she could imagine.

Hama noted the fear in her young rescuer. She looked over at the new arrivals. As if their pale skin and golden eyes were not enough, they had been foolish enough to keep wearing those infernal Fire Nation military uniforms. Unbridled hatred boiled within her as she choked back a growl and instead muttered kindly to the three. "And who might you gentlemen be," she asked.

Kunzo turned and took notice of Hama for the first time. "Be quiet hag," he said shortly. "I'm only interested in talking to the pretty one," he said, turning a lecherous gaze back on Kala. "Lu, you can scorch the wrinkled bitch," the fat man said, turning to his scarred, straw-haired associate.

The man named Lu smiled fiendishly and began walking toward Hama as Kunzo advanced on young Kala. The old woman closed her eyes and hoped she had strength enough for what came next. In the end, hatred was a powerful weapon and it gave her all the resolve she needed.

With a wave of her hand, three great whips of water rose from the nearby river and wrapped around the men's waists. They froze into solid ice as the trio looked down in fright and surprise. With another wave, Hama used the makeshift lassos to pull the fools into the river. She could not stand but she circled her arms, forcing the water to press down on them as they struggled in vain to breach the surface. Hama smiled as water kept crashing over them, filling their lungs as they screamed in silence. Several more minutes passed as Hama was nothing if not thorough. In the end, three pale bodies floated up to the surface and drifted down the stream unmoving. No breath flowed through their blue-tinged lips.

The aged bender sighed and rested back against her tree. She looked over at Kala whose eyes were locked on the corpses making their slow journey downstream. The bloodbender noted the look of vindication buried deep beneath the shock and fear. 'This one may look like Katara,' she thought to herself, but she had all the spirit that foolish girl lacked.

For Kala, it had all happened so fast. One moment, Kunzo was bearing down on her, the look of lust and rage on his face curdling her blood and the scent of stale wine on his breath making her sick and the next, he was crying out as water came out of nowhere to wrap tightly around his massive belly. And then he was screaming and so were the other two as they were flung into the river. The water suddenly had a mind of its own as it slowly drowned them. It was only minutes later that her rationality kicked back in and she discovered that it had to have been Hama who did that.

She was not only a fellow member of the Water Tribe, she was a waterbender. And a skilled one at that if she had managed to kill three men with a gaping hole in her side. Kala turned to the old woman and mouthed a wordless thanks as her eyes went wide with wonder.

"There's no need to thank me Kala," Hama said with a tenderness utterly at odds with the murderous ferocity she had just shown. "I am not so old and senile that I could not see that those men wished you great harm. You saved my life and now I have saved yours. I always pay my debts," she promised with a sly grin.

Kala could not find the words. Even her thoughts were a useless jumble in her head. A year of abuse and cruelty had ended in less than five minutes. Kunzo was dead. The rest of his followers would no doubt disband without him to keep them in line. It was over. She was free. And in the company of an old, female waterbender of obvious skill. The girl was terrified that this was all a cruel jest, some dream inflicted upon her to make her believe that she could still hope for a better future. She was terrified that soon she would wake up in her tiny little tent, the chain still wrapped crushingly around her leg. And then Kunzo would walk in and the nightmare that was her life would continue uninterrupted.

But she closed her eyes several times and still she found herself in this secluded part of the forest with no one to keep her company but Hama and her memories. She looked up at the old woman. Hama was staring out at the river streaming past them, a small and contented smile on her face. She clutched her side, but it did not seem to be causing her much pain, or if it did she was very good at hiding it. Kala admired her strength.

"I'm a murderer," Kala said suddenly. "I killed my mother when I was born," she said somberly, not quite sure why she was telling Hama any of this. Perhaps it was out of gratitude, but deep down, Kala recognized that she had to tell someone. Keeping this all locked away was slowly rotting her from the inside out.

Hama merely turned to look at her and gave a reassuring glance. She did not seek to console her or tell her that it was not her fault as so many others in her tribe had. The old woman simply looked on kindly, mind open and ready to listen. There was no pity in her eyes, just understanding and camaraderie. And Kala was grateful.

"I don't think my father ever really forgave me," she went on. "The way he glanced at me when he thought I wasn't looking, this weird tone his voice would have sometimes when he spoke to me. Even when the Avatar showed up and convinced Master Pakku to train a girl who was traveling with him, my father forbade me to go and learn. That's when I knew he hated me, even if he could never bring himself to admit it."

Kala noticed the shadow of anger cross Hama's face as she mentioned the Avatar, but it was gone as soon as it had come and then her face was back to its kind and accommodating stare.

"My older brother was named Makoda. He was always there for me when I needed him. We were two years apart and he taught me how to fish and would play games with me out in the ice fields. Whenever some of the boys from the tribe would make fun of me, Makoda would beat them senseless," she remembered with a sad smile. "He should have hated me just like my father, but he didn't. He loved me more than anyone ever has."

The young woman paused to gather her thoughts. "And then the day came when the snow fell from the sky. And it was black. The Fire Nation attacked the city and my father went to the outer wall to defend it. He died there. A Fire Nation spear broke through his ribs and pierced his heart." Kala could still remember the sounds of the women and babies crying as the huddled together in the palace. She remembered the blind fear that had raced through her as she wondered if she would ever see her brother alive again. She remembered the cold feeling that had washed over her as the moon vanished from the sky. Kala remembered it all.

"It was just me and Makoda then," she continued. "But he looked out for me like always. He was a great bender and he volunteered to go with Master Pakku to the Southern Tribe and help them rebuild. Makoda insisted that Pakku take me with too."

"It was exciting leaving the city and everything behind. It was like we were going on an adventure. But one night, a storm came out of nowhere and blew us of course. Our ship was separated from the others and got lost. I was scared but Makoda stayed beside me and promised everything would be alright." She paused to let out a mirthless and ironic laugh. "It was the first time he ever lied to me.

"The pirates came the next day. Makoda and the other benders fought bravely but there weren't many of them on our ship. All I could do was run around, trying to heal any of the warriors who got wounded. We were overrun. One of the pirates grabbed me by the arm. I screamed and Makoda tried to get to me. Another man, he...he…" Kala stopped and buried her hands in her face. She didn't know for sure how long she sat like that, her tears cleaning the dirt from her hands. But she knew that Hama had moved, slowly and clumsily, to her side. The woman's pale and wrinkled hand rested on her shoulder as she sobbed.

"He stabbed Makoda in the stomach and then sliced his face with a knife," she finally finished with a weak whimper. "I was taken away by the pirates. We weren't far from shore so I wasn't around them long, but they said awful things to me. They beat me when I cried which just made me cry even more." She rubbed her face as if she could still feel the sting.

"They ended up selling me to a band of Fire Nation soldiers. Their job was to stay behind in occupied territories and keep the locals in line. Kunzo - he was the fat and stinky one - was their leader. He told me that he paid good coin for me and that he was going to get his money's worth. That first night, he came into my tent and told me to take off my clothes…"

"Hush now child," whispered Hama gently. "There's no need to relive that. Why don't you just tell me how you got away," she suggested.

Kala nodded. But she would always relive those nights. They were burned onto her memory like the burns that Lu had left across her back. "When the war ended, Kunzo and his men panicked. They had done some terrible things and they were afraid that if they obeyed the order to pull back, they would be punished. They went rogue and became bandits. They attacked travelers and terrorized some small villages. And wherever they went, they dragged me along. I could hardly do any waterbending since I'd never been properly trained so I just went along with it. I let it happen to me," she cried. Hama rubbed her shoulder and back.

"Last night, Kunzo drank a lot. After… after he was done, he didn't tie the chain around my leg very tight. I pulled my ankle through and slipped out of the tent. They had just robbed a trade caravan that was transporting wine to Ba Sing Se so there was plenty to distract the men. But one of the guards at the exit to the camp spotted me and rang the alert bells. I just started running as fast as I could into the forest. I heard men start running after me. I ran and ran. And then, I found you," she finished, looking up at the kindly old woman.

"We found each other Kala," declared Hama. "I am so sorry for what happened to you. No child should be put through so much pain. But I can help you Kala. I can teach you. I can make you strong. I can help you make sure the Fire Nation never does what they did to you to anyone else ever again."

Kala looked confused, but her face soon stiffened with resolve. She had not been strong enough to save herself, but perhaps Hama could make her strong enough to save others. And she wanted revenge against the people who had tormented her. She wanted justice. She wanted to have the power to make things right and to make the pain go away. Hama was promising her that and more.

"I'm getting old," Hama mused. "I may not have much time left in this world. But you Kala, you will be my legacy. You will go on to do what I cannot. I will teach you all that I know so that when the day comes and I leave this cruel world behind, I will rest easy knowing that you will carry on my mission. When I am better my dear, we shall begin."


End file.
